


And They Will Know The Truth In Our Scars

by TeddyRadiator



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi, Threesome - F/F/M, Twincest, femmeslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:24:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6587407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeddyRadiator/pseuds/TeddyRadiator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was another one of Lucius and Narcissa's boring parties, until someone, like Severus, decided to break the rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And They Will Know The Truth In Our Scars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stgulik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stgulik/gifts).



> I would like to wish the happiest of birthdays to my beloved stgulik. I hope you are having the best birthday in the world.
> 
> I'm sorry I'm a little late with your birthday gift, but since you weren't there to get it all shiny and polished, I had to spend a little more time with the walk-through, you know, making sure the beds were made and the dishes washed and the new-house potpourri was in the wax melter...
> 
> A little backstory here. A couple of weeks ago, the ever-awesome mywitch put forth the Patil twins as one of her subjects for her incredible colouring book, The Village Broom. They didn't win, but the idea of Severus with the Patil twins was just too delicous to pass up. Visions of the Kama Sutra and beautiful exotic locales came to mind.
> 
> So, to stgulik, who means more to me than I can ever say, I present this. I wrote it solely because I wanted to gift it to you on your birthday. I'm sure afterward it would greatly benefit from your scrutiny, but I hope you will enjoy it, and it will show you how dear you are to me.
> 
> Title: And They Will Know The Truth In Our Scars  
> Pairing: Severus Snape/Padma Patil/Parvati Patil  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Length: 8890 or so  
> Warnings: Explicit sexual content, femmeslash, twincest, threesomes F/F/M, references to violence (past tense)  
> Summary: It was another one of Lucius and Narcissa's boring parties, until someone, like Severus, decided to break the rules.  
> A/N: This is unbeta'd, so please don't blame Stgulik. The characters in this story do not belong to me, they belong to JKR; but if she can chase them around with her pen and ink, so can I. By the way, there is a very NSFW art piece at the end, which served as inspiration as well.
> 
> The song at the beginning can be found here: https://youtu.be/ajNiO-wZc1g

And They Will Know The Truth In Our Scars  
  
 _No one heard you say your prayers for love  
No one ever seemed to care for you  
Blind as you run  
Aware you were staring at the sun  
  
Always someone's favorite fool  
Playing games that they'd invent for you  
Losing your heart and soul  
Aware there's no way you can repair yourself  
  
Your fragile face reflects years of neglect  
Love for so long denied dies in your eyes  
And so you kiss and give your heart away  
  
Far from the start you knew there was something out of view  
  
Like a burning spear of stars falling  
You dissolve the night in tears so tired  
Blinded you run  
Aware you were staring at the sun  
  
You've given it all away  
No more prayers today  
You got a homeless heart that's tearing you apart  
You couldn't feel more cold inside your secret soul  
You never found no one  
You were staring at the sun_  
  
~o0o~  
  
Ah, the Dark Revels.  
  
In the war years, Revels had been the stuff of legends. Those hedonistic orgies of Dark magic and darker lust, where Death Eaters danced the forbidden sarabande of decadence. Everyone who was anyone claimed to have attended at least one, and spoke of them in hushed tones of exhausted carnality.  
  
Severus Snape remembered the social events of those days as anything but salacious. His recollections of these so-called revels involved horribly stewed tea and dried out cakes and the whispered threat of imminent, unpleasant death, with a Potter vendetta chaser. All very civilised, of course. The tea _was_ Earl Grey.  
  
Naturally, Lucius played up the orgiastic myth of the Dark Revel to his heart’s delight. He said it made them seem rakish and windswept. Severus, who had spent the last ten years after the war as rakish and windswept as he was prepared to be, found it all patently ridiculous.  
  
And still Narcissa’s parties were mostly tea and cakes and veiled talk of past glories and dashed hopes of world domination.  
  
So when the invitation arrived via Thermopylae, the Malfoy’s largest and most oft-recognised owl, Severus vowed to respectfully decline. Problem was, the damned bird wouldn’t leave; it just kept following him around the kitchen, pecking at his sleeve. “Alright! Anything for a quiet life, you bloody buzzard,” he grumbled, breaking the Malfoy seal on the expensive envelope. He withdrew a gilt-edge vellum invitation in rich cream, reeking of Lucius’ second-favourite cologne. “What a ponce,” Severus muttered.  
  
 _Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy request your presence at 8pm on Seventeen April for their premier Masque Ball. Fancy dress obligatory. RSVP via Thermopylae. He will wait._  
  
Grabbing a quill, he scribbled, _What’s this old shite in aid of?_ The Malfoys were shameless in their campaign to use ‘special’ occasions in which to re-establish their legitimacy in the Wizarding world. And in the spirit of killing two birds with one stone, they usually tried to pair him up with the latest witch du jour as well. Thermopylae fluttered impatiently as he attached the message, then took to the skies with a great flapping of his ten-foot wingspan. Within minutes he had returned.  
  
 _Just answer the bloody RSVP, Severus. Are you planning to come to this party or not?_  
  
Severus groaned. If he didn’t go, it would hurt their feelings in a way that he found disturbingly maternal.  
  
 _I’ll be there with bells on, Lucius. Just don’t expect me to dress in some silly costume. PS. Do I need to bring my own tea?_  
  
Apparently _that_ did not merit a reply.  
  
The evening was pleasantly balmy as Severus Apparated onto the Malfoy grounds. Just beyond the gates, he saw the multitudes milling around, laughing and talking and lapping up drinks that looked suspiciously un-tealike. Floating lanterns suffused the evening with soft, buttery light, and everywhere he looked, he saw beautiful women in various stages of fancy dress and undress. Their voices and laughter drifted carelessly in the night air.  
  
A young man in footman’s livery approached him, holding a silver tray festooned with drinks. “Would you like a cocktail, sir?” he asked politely, extending the tray for Severus’ perusal.  
  
He selected a gin and tonic, found it to be more gin than tonic, and approved. No, this definitely wasn’t one of Lucius and Narcissa’s typical parties. Not exactly a Dark Revel, either, but some pleasant area between. Severus straightened his shoulders and headed for the door.  
  
~o0o~  
  
Severus had weathered the post-war years better than most. When he awoke from his long, dreadful sleep to find the Dark Lord dead, Harry Potter the king of the sodding world, and his own lethal obsession with Lily Evans a receding shadow in his heart, he vowed to himself he would make the most of it. He spent a little money, took a little better care of himself, and most of all, gave himself a little slack. Survival was the best revenge, he told himself.  
  
His two taskmasters were gone; he had the time and the inclination to play, and so he taught himself how. Women who had called him various and sundry unflattering names now sought him out as the misunderstood and vaguely interesting war hero, and several clumsily tried to seduce him. Sometimes he let them. Sometimes he smiled and walked away. Sometimes, if their remarks had been particularly nasty, he broke their hearts. That could occasionally invoke a tasty bit of revenge as well, but like an overly rich meal, it never sat very well afterward.  
  
Eventually, he had settled down into a life he enjoyed. Research, reading, the occasional evening in the company of a clever, pretty-but-not-too pretty witch, and staid tea parties at Lucius and Narcissa’s.  
  
This party, however, looked as if the Malfoys had decided to switch things up a bit. Severus could hear music coming from the ballroom; dreamy, slow waltzes, in which couples glided past the windows like multicoloured swans. A grand duchess swooped past in the arms of a clown; a witch dressed as a phoenix rustled by, leaving a trail of singed feathers. Her partner, a devilishly handsome fop, led with resentful grace, applying the occasional fire extinguishing charm to keep his powdered wig from catching alight.  
  
Severus, as promised, had eschewed the idea of fancy dress. Instead, he had donned his best robe, midnight black with dark green velvet trim, nipped in at the waist to enhance his long, slender frame. Black velvet buttons marched from collar to hem, on cuff and boot. His hair, the bane of his existence all his life, was long and sleek and fell like a black curtain past his shoulders. He was never going to win beauty contests, but he had learned a bit more about stroking his own ego.  
  
His cloak was fastened with an antiqued silver clasp in the shape of the head of Athena. No more Medusas for him, thank Merlin. The clasp had been a gift from Filius and Minerva from the previous Christmas. Severus had found it touching that his former peers had understood so well that, somewhat unsurprisingly, he had lost all desire for anything having to do with snakes.  
  
~o0o~  
  
“Why Severus! You look absolutely dashing!”  
  
“And you are breathtaking as always, Narcissa,” he replied, placing a hand on his chest in salute. He meant it; it had been a long time since he had seen La Malfoy looking like her old, pre-war self, bright-eyed and dewy cheeked. Her silver-blonde hair was adorned with glittering diamonds, her masque shimmered in changing waves of pearly white to icy blue. Her Eighteenth Century dress hugged her tiny waist, but flared so widely at the hem she could not reach him. Instead, he settled for air kisses an acceptable two inches away.  
  
He turned to his host, who looked magnificent in the accompanying Eighteenth Century garb of King Louis Quinze. “Why Lucius, you malodorous ponce. You look resplendent as fuck.”  
  
Louis the Beloved would have killed to register such insouciant distain. With a wave of his perfumed lace handkerchief, Lucius replied, “Do spare me your crudities, Severus. I should be obliged to toss you out on your ear, but your trim waistline fills me with envy, so I shall accept your base compliment with the spirit given and return it in kind.”  
  
“And that means what, when it’s at home?”  
  
“It means I’m thoroughly sick of you coming here alone looking like Narcissa’s dishy bit of rough.” He cocked a warning eye. “I fully expect you to pull tonight. Get in there and start seducing eligible witches. Alcohol will help.”  
  
“Indeed,” Severus replied, and lifted what he had come to think of as his ‘flirtatious eyebrow’. “I shall have a wander, then.”  
  
“Be a good chap and don’t let the side down, Severus. We bad boys have a reputation to uphold.”  
  
For all the laughter and general gaiety, though, Severus soon found himself wistfully longing for the days of tea and toast. While everyone around him soldiered on, determined to convince themselves they were having a good time, Severus felt distinctly gooseberry-ish. It was by and large a ‘couples’ party, and those on the fringes, unpaired like himself, seemed at best surplus to requirements.  
  
“Thank Merlin I’m not the only one,” a soft, feminine voice said. Severus turned to its source, and his breath caught at the sight of the beautiful witch by his side. She was tall and slender as a willow, as dusky as he was pale, with long, shining black hair and intelligent, dark eyes.  
  
“Pardon?” he finally managed.  
  
Her smile could have banished darkness forever; finely sculpted red lips, white, even teeth, an enticing dimple on her left cheek. “I said, thank Merlin I’m not the only one─”  
  
“Yes, I heard that part,” he replied, “but I’m at a loss as to what it means.”  
  
The smile was accompanied by soft, musical laughter. “I meant, you’re not playing by the rules, either.” She drew closer, and added conspiratorially, “I like a wizard who’s not afraid to break the occasional rule.”  
  
At his blank expression, she indicated her clothing. “Like you, I decided not to bother with the fancy dress.”  
  
 _If this is your idea of what is_ not _fancy dress, my beauty, you will need to redefine the meaning,_ thought Severus.  
  
She was wearing a stunning red Indian-style sari, heavy with beadwork and braiding. Intricate gold earrings dangled from her delicate lobes, and thin bangles encircled her finely-boned wrists. Adorning her forehead was a small but elaborately jewelled ornament; a golden confection in the shape of a lotus flower, with a teardrop ruby the size of his thumb resting just below the part of her hair.  
  
A memory stirred: a student, wearing a similar ornament; an overheard conversation with Filius, her Head of House:  
  
 _“It is called a maang tikka, sir. You see how it rests on the sixth chakra? That represents the third eye, the power of the soul. It also signifies the ability to control emotions and the power of concentration.”_  
  
An ornament for a Ravenclaw, if ever there was one.  
  
“Who needs fancy dress when your beauty outshines everyone here, Miss Patil?”  
  
Her eyes danced, as did the dimple in her cheek. “Ah, but which Patil, Mr Snape? If you will recall, there are two of us.”  
  
“I do recall. And I am in the delightful company of Miss _Padma_ Patil, of course.”  
  
She gave him a complimentary bow. “Well done, sir! I’m quite flattered that you remember Parvati and me at all.”  
  
“It would be very difficult to forget the only set of twins during my tenure at Hogwarts who ever tried to switch places on their O.W.L. Potions final. Even the Weasleys were never that audacious.”  
  
Her eyes widened, then she laughed. “Oh, I’d completely forgotten about that!” Warmly, she added, “You were always able to tell us apart. Very few of our professors could, you know.” She made a pretend pout, “But Parvati got so nervous in your classes, and I thought I could help out, but instead─”  
  
“Instead, I sent you packing and fetched her from the Gryffindor Common Room to make her sit her exam with the Hufflepuffs. It was her lab partner who made her nervous, not me. And I also seem to recall she did rather well regardless. Not as high a grade as yourself, but very well, nonetheless.”  
  
Padma shook her head. “We never _did_ figure out how you knew it was me.” She paused, and bit her plump, lower lip. Tilting her head, she looked deep into his eyes. “How _did_ you know?”  
  
Severus solemnly laid his finger aside his large nose. “Ah, but that would be giving away my secrets, wouldn’t it, Miss Patil?”  
  
“I suppose it would. But something tells me it might be fun to try and winkle out a few of your secrets,” she replied, her eyes warm and flirtatious. “I’ll bet it would be even more fun trying to find out how.”  
  
Severus felt the room grow warmer. “Oh, there’s nothing much worth winkling, I’m afraid,” he said easily. “I’m an open book, Miss Patil,”  
  
“And a very interesting read, I have no doubt, Mr Snape.”  
  
“I would be a lot more interesting if you would call me Severus,” he challenged, with enough purr in his voice to show he wasn’t just being polite.  
  
Her flirtatious eyebrow could have given _his_ lessons. “Then I am Padma, Severus.”  
  
“Padma it is, then,” he countered, toasting her with his drink. He was enjoying their playful exchange; it had been a long time since he had met a former student and not felt the need to either beg their pardon or run away before they started throwing hexes. Padma Patil, with her long, sinuous frame and stunning face, was easy on the eye, and in spite of her earlier declaration, _was_ definitely playing by his rules.  
  
She was also a product of her House; Severus had known the moment she walked into his classroom that she and her sister had switched places. It was not, as he hinted, a lab partner Parvati Patil fancied. Surreptitious Legilimency had revealed the Gryffindor Patil sister to have a strange and unrequited crush on her Potions Professor. This ongoing distraction was made manifest in bouts of giggling and cringingly puerile attempts to garner his attention, the results of which caused several potions-based mishaps. Parvati had obviously not shared this little secret with her sister, who was unfailingly studious and serious. Padma never flirted with anyone, especially him.  
  
Until tonight.  
  
“Is everything alright, Severus?” Padma asked. “You seem quite far away.”  
  
Severus inclined his head in silent apology. “I was just wondering if your lovely sister was here tonight as well.”  
  
For the first time since their meeting, Padma seemed less than confident. “She is, actually. As a matter of fact─”  
  
“There you are! I was just about to send my Patronus looking for you! I─why, hello, sir! It’s been a long time, Professor Snape!”  
  
Parvati Patil came to stand by her sister’s side. She also wore a sari, but hers was a brilliant, peacock blue. A sheer veil, heavily beaded and sequined on the edges, covered her hair and face, but he could easily see her expression through the thin fabric. Together, she and her sister looked up at Severus with almost identical smiles.  
  
He took her hand and kissed it. “Miss Patil, I hope you are well. Padma and I were just getting reacquainted.”  
  
Padma stroked her sister’s arm affectionately. “You see? I told you he would remember us. Parvati was convinced you wouldn’t, you know, Severus.”  
  
Parvati gave him a bashful smile, and Severus saw the blush tint her cheeks a lovely shade of pink behind the veil. “I am delighted to see you again, Professor─”  
  
“Severus,” Padma corrected, and threw another one of her sultry glances his way. “We’re to call him Severus.”  
  
After the minutest hesitation, Parvati inclined her head respectfully. “Severus, then. I hope I’m not too bold in saying how very dashing you look tonight. I’m sure your many admirers have already told you so. I know I’ve not been able to take my eyes off you since you arrived.” Her voice, like her sister’s, was pleasing to the ear.  
  
If they were trying to seduce him, it was working. He waved his hand around negligently. “I must confess I haven’t taken notice of anyone else. I’ve been enjoying myself with the pair of you too much.”  
  
Again, Parvati dropped her eyes bashfully. Was this really the silly, giggling girl that once tried to earn a detention just so she could serve it with him?  
  
“Has Padma been regaling you with our adventures abroad?” she was saying.  
  
“I was just getting around to it, my darling,” Padma answered warmly.  
  
“She has not, and I’m jealous,” Severus replied with mock disapproval. He fetched another G&T from a passing waiter; yes, the gin was definitely winning. “As an admittedly under-traveled wizard, I would love to hear about them.”  
  
Turning to Severus, Padma began, “Shortly after the war, Minister Shacklebolt asked Parvati and me to go to the Madras region of India as special envoys to help with the restructuring of the Wizarding government there. Walden MacNair and some other Death Eaters had fled to the country, you see, and were stirring up some local dark wizards, trying to stage a takeover, and…”  
  
She suddenly stopped, and laid a warm hand on his arm. “Would you like to take this conversation somewhere more…private, Severus?”  
  
As the two women waited for his answer, Severus spotted Lucius, who was making a moue of approval. _Twins,_ he mouthed silently, and toasted Severus with his drink.  
  
 _Arse,_ he mouthed in reply, and toasted him back. Lucius would just have to live vicariously through some other ex-Death Eater tonight.  
  
“I would indeed,” Severus replied. “And I happen to know the perfect place, if you would care to join me.”  
  
Padma took his right arm, and Parvati his left. Together the three of them quit the crowded ballroom, and headed toward Severus’ favourite retreat.  
  
He opened the door and escorted the two witches into the small nook Narcissa had always referred to as ‘the Drawing Room’. Before war and guilt and redemption had taken what few private joys remained to him, Severus had whiled away many a pleasant hour there, talking ideology or playing cards or simply reading in quiet contemplation.  
  
The space was cozy and casual, the furniture a little too worn for the more public areas of the manor. It faced the large gardens behind the house, and during daylight hours it was pleasant to gaze out the large windows and watch Lucius’ peacocks strutting around, vying for the attention of their drab mates. It was the one place Narcissa had kept locked away from Tom Riddle and his ilk during the war, ‘so I’ll have at least one damn room in this house that doesn’t bear the stench of him’.  
  
It was dark when they entered, and Severus whispered a spell that infused the space with soft candlelight. He led the witches to the long sofa facing the mantle, where they gracefully alighted like two beautiful butterflies. A quick _Incenidio_ sparked a low fire in the grate, dispelling the early spring chill.  
  
“Would you care for a drink?” he asked, indicating the decanters on a nearby sideboard. He was surprised to find he felt rather nervous. “Lucius usually saves his best liquour for his more intimate soirees, so this should be the better stuff.”  
  
“I would love a brandy,” Padma replied.  
  
Parvati considered a moment. “I wouldn’t say no to a small whisky.”  
  
“Scotch or Irish?”  
  
“Oh, Irish, of course!” She laughed a little breathlessly, and Severus thought, _now_ that _sounds more like the Parvati Patil I remember_. She had always been girlish and giggly, to be sure, but she had also been quite courageous. Padma had always seemed more earnest and measured in comparison, but tonight she was the more dominant one.  
  
He poured drinks, including a third gin for himself, then carried them back to the sofa. They made a place for him to sit between the two of them, Padma to his right, Parvati, his left. “I’m all ears,” he said, settling back into the comfortable cushions.  
  
They told their tale like two Scheherazades, each taking up the story when the other paused. They leaned forward, so Severus was not forced to watch them like a tennis match, and he soon found himself enthralled.  
  
“It was Parvati’s idea, actually.” Padma gave her sister another fond, indulgent smile. “After the final battle, I was content to settle down and lick my wounds, but my brave Gryffindor sister here had a mission, and not even I could persuade her otherwise. So off we went.” She gave Severus a solemn glance. “I couldn’t let her go on her own, you see. We do everything together.”  
  
Something about the way she emphasised the word, _everything_ , made his collar feel a bit tight. “Please, go on,” he said, and was not surprised to hear a decidedly husky tone in his voice.  
  
Padma looked past him. “I think it would be better if Parvati explained, don’t you?” She gave her sister a nod of encouragement.  
  
Parvati sipped her whisky, and took a moment to gather her thoughts. “I suppose I should really start at the very beginning,” she said, a little haltingly, as if she were unused to taking the lead. “Padma and I had never spent so much as a night apart before we came to Hogwarts.” She gave a little apologetic shrug. “When we were sorted into separate Houses, I was the one who had the hardest time adjusting.” She reached out and stroked her sister’s face tenderly. “Padma should have been the Gryffindor, not I. My first year I was so very lonely and afraid without her.”  
  
Severus nodded. It was not unheard of for twins to be sorted into different Houses, but it was unusual. He could recall several conversations between Filius and Minerva on how to best help the girls adjust to their separation.  
  
Parvati continued, “Then I met Lavender Brown – do you remember her?”  
  
“Very much so,” he replied, and bowed his head in respect. The poor girl had been butchered in the final battle by Fenrir Greyback; it was one of the most gruesome tales in a war of gruesome tales, including his own.  
  
Parvati continued, “Lavender was my roommate. Even when we were first years, she seemed to understand how difficult it was for me without Padma. Her kindness helped me through a lot of lonely times, and we grew very close. She was a dear and loyal friend.”  
  
She turned toward the fire. “The final battle was so terrible, you know. So many hurt and wounded and killed.” She turned her veiled face to his. “After it was all over, I found Lavender. What that beast did to her…” Her voice faltered.  
  
“Parvati, dearest,” Padma began. Severus saw great anguish, and great love, in Padma’s face.  
  
Severus shifted uneasily. It was true he had been unconscious for most of the battle and its grinding aftermath, but he could recall the bleak sorrow of discovering so many from his own House among the roll call of the dead. They had been his students, and he had failed them.  
  
And he still remembered discovering Lily’s body in the wreckage of Potter’s home, and the grief that had shattered his own heart. It did not matter they had parted badly; he still mourned her death, and the part he had played in it.  
  
Finding his courage, Severus placed his hand over Parvati’s. “Please don’t feel you need to go on. I know how much this must distress you still.”  
  
Parvarti gave her head a little shake. “Oh, no, please forgive me. I tell you this to explain why I felt I needed to do something after the battle.”  
  
Her voice was sad, but steady. “We have family in Madras, influential witches and wizards in their government. One day Minister Shaklebolt owled our father, asking for assistance. The Indian Wizarding Ministry had heard rumours that MacNair and that dog, Greyback, had escaped England, and had come to India as expatriates.”  
  
MacNair and Greyback were fugitives, with a price on their heads, trying to drum up support for their cause. Parvati had volunteered to go and assist in the operation to oust them and extradite them back to England. She believed it was the only way she could somehow avenge her fallen friend. Padma, who adored her sister and could not bear to be parted from her again, went with her.  
  
“I thought it would not be too difficult. After all, we had both been in battle. We were both members of the DA.”  
  
“Ah, yes,” Severus said, with a trace of wistfulness. “You were the bane of my existence that year.”  
  
They gave him identical apologetic smiles. “Do go on,” he added hastily. “That is hardly material to this story.”  
  
“Well, in a way, it is,” Parvati said. “I will admit, I was angry, and my anger made me reckless. I wanted to make them pay, for Lavender.”  
  
“It did not take long to drive them out of their hole,” Padma said, taking up the thread of the story. “We, along with a group of Indian Aurors, surrounded them in a run-down slum in Chennai, and were prepared to take them out, when we ourselves were ambushed. Too late we realised we were outnumbered.”  
  
Parvati continued. “We sent our Patroni for backup, but it was almost too late. They were a desperate group, cursing and hexing not only us but the civilians and Muggles as well. They warded the building with _Repello Inimicum_."  
  
Severus grimaced. _Repello Inimicum_ was a horrible spell, designed to utterly destroy anyone who came in contact with the barrier it created. Personally, he had always regarded it as worse than an Unforgivable, which was aimed at a specific person, a target personal to the castor. _Repello Inimicum_ destroyed anything that crossed its path, regardless whether they were friend or foe.  
  
Padma now took up the narration. “The Chief Auror was the first one to hit the _Inimicum_ ’s field. I was right behind him. If Parvati hadn’t grabbed me and pulled me back…”  
  
Parvati interjected, “We knew we had to get out, so I made ready for us to leave.”  
  
“Her Apparation skills are much stronger than mine,” explained Parvati. She turned to her sister. “We had actually spun into the Apparation, when the spell engulfed us. It was _Homeneum Reducto_ , and it had been caught in the vortex of our Apparation.”  
  
“Merlin,” Severus breathed, his gut clenching in horror. He had seen something similar happen many years ago, during the first war, when he was about their age. It was one of the grisliest deaths he ever witnessed. “Did you know it was caught up with you?”  
  
“We could only feel the spell battering away at our shields. I must have Apparated us to five different places, hoping the spell would break loose and spin free,” Parvati said. She shook her head sadly. “But my magic was depleted from the fight, and I couldn’t outrun it.”  
  
Padma’s voice was low and sorrowful as she finished the tale. “Parvati had the presence of mind to land us in water, just ahead of the impact, and she covered me with her body. I heard her _Finite Incantatum_ the spell, but not before it hit her full on. Thank goodness the water was so cold. It lowered her body temperature long enough for me to find help.”  
  
As the girls spoke, their hands moved closer together, until they were clasped on his knee. Without thinking, Severus placed his own hand over theirs. It was like holding two tiny birds, vulnerable and tensile. “I think you are both extremely fortunate. And very, very brave.”  
  
Padma’s eyes shone with pride. With fierce satisfaction, she replied, “We found out later MacNair and Greyback were taken down that day like the rabid dogs they were. They had vowed to die rather than return to England and Azkaban, and they got their wish.” Her triumph faded. “But our group perished by their hands. We were the only survivors of that awful ambush. If it hadn’t been for Parvati’s quick thinking…”  
  
Severus could hear the emotion getting away with her, and to lighten the tone, he took each hand, and kissed it in turn. “If it hadn’t been for Parvati’s quick thinking, I would be bereft. Just think of the horribly dull time I would be having at this ghastly party, if you weren’t here with me.”  
  
It was a moronic statement and he felt like an arse for saying it, but it seemed to have the desired effect. “Thank you, Severus. It would have been our misfortune to miss you as well,” Padma answered, and to Severus’ surprise, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Her lips were downy soft, and their feathery touch sent an electric shiver down his spine.  
  
To cover his reaction, he turned to say something to Parvati, when the impact of the story hit him fully. The narrow escape, the not-quite-dispelling of the curse. Padma’s almost worshipful tenderness. Severus tentatively grasped the edges of Parvati’s veil, like a groom preparing to reveal his bride. “May I?” he said, as gently as he was able.  
  
Behind the sheer fabric, he saw her huge, lovely eyes meet his in silent, strong trust. “Yes, Severus. Please.”  
  
With trembling hands, he lifted the veil, and lay it back against her shoulders.  
  
No, Parvati Patil would never again be mistaken for her sister.  
  
The long, thin scar started at her hairline. It ran over her left eye, down the length of her face, over her cheek, beside her mouth. It traced its silvery trail down the side of her throat, and disappeared beneath the bodice of her gown, bisecting the left side of her body as cleanly as if it had been drawn by a quill. To the left of that long scar was nothing but ravaged, dappled, ruined flesh.  
  
To his unspoken question, she replied, “Just below my knee. The spell damage was such that it could not be reversed.”  
  
Severus felt his heart drop into his gut. It was on the tip of his tongue to apologise. How many times had he said, “I’m sorry,” to all those families who had lost loved ones? How many apologies had he spoken to those in hospital, suffering from hideous curses that would never heal? How many pleas for forgiveness had he begged from the traumatised children whose invisible wounds would forever haunt his sleep?  
  
No. He had apologised enough. He had said enough. Now was not the time for empty words. Suddenly he felt like a fraud, swanning about in his best robes, chatting up women, breaking hearts just because he could. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he was dealing with substance. He owed them at least that in return.  
  
He took Parvati’s hand, and placed it on the top collar of his robes. “Unbutton it,” he commanded softly. Her eyes widened in surprise and uncertainty for only a fraction of a second, then her Gryffindor courage won out. Her nimble fingers pushed the buttons through their holes, until she reached the wide sash at his waist.  
  
Wordlessly, Severus pulled back the collar to reveal his final gift from the Dark Lord, the one for which he would ever hold both Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore responsible. The scar started on the side of his neck, and ended just beneath his left nipple.  
  
Nagini had sunk her hideous fangs into his neck, then viciously twisted her head as she withdrew, gouging gruesome, jagged trenches down the side of his neck and arm. He had suffered massive blood loss and shock from those wounds, but it was her poison that would render him unconscious for almost three months.  
  
It had acted as both toxin and acid; large sections of necrotising flesh and muscle had to be cut away to prevent the neuro-toxins from spreading and polluting his entire body. The blistering poison had seared through skin and bone and nerve endings, leaving wide, burn-like scarring over nearly half of his upper body. His clavicle was misshapen and twisted. The skin beneath his arm actually fused to his torso, and eventually had to be separated to ensure proper movement. The resulting scars were pitted and striated and occasionally painful.  
  
He remembered how sickened he had been by the sheer hideousness of the wound, how angry he had felt to discover he had miraculously been spared a grisly death, only to be left in this freakish state. It had taken months before he could bear the sight of it; years before he allowed anyone but the healers to look at it. Both Parvati and Padma leaned in and regarded it solemnly. In that curious, unguarded moment, their expressions were creased with pity. Severus didn’t blame them.  
  
Then Parvati raised her eyes to his. She placed her tiny hand on his shoulder, and though the cauterised nerves no longer allowed him to actually feel her fingers brush against it, he sensed her emotions as she touched him. “This is not a thing to be ashamed of, Severus,” she said, with a tender smile. “You and I were injured, not damaged.”  
  
He was struck by the serenity of her words. “This is proof we survived. It is proof we protected the ones we love. And it is beautiful.”  
  
“Thank you,” he replied brokenly, and some deep well of relief swelled in his heart. He felt a silly grin part his lips. “I don’t think anyone could ever agree with you that I’m beautiful, but I appreciate your sincerity.”  
  
Parvati beamed. “I happen to think I am quite the expert at recognising beauty.” She turned to her sister, who simply glowed with pride. “After all, I see it every day. Padma is the most beautiful woman I know, and I am proud to be her sister. I am proud I could protect her and keep her beautiful.”  
  
Severus looked at the lovely witch and nodded. “She is indeed lovely.”  
  
Parvati looked at him with an expression that was almost Slytherin. “Perhaps you should kiss her,” she said, teasingly. “A beautiful woman should be kissed.”  
  
Adrenaline kicked into Severus’ blood, making his heart beat harder. He caught Parvati’s hand, still pressed against his ruined shoulder, and brought it to his lips. Then he took her face in his hands. “A beautiful woman _should_ be kissed. And you are as beautiful as a lotus flower,” Severus whispered, and pressed his lips to hers.  
  
She stilled in surprise for the tiniest of moments, then opened to him in glorious, beautiful acceptance. Her lips were warm and soft as silk, flavoured with whisky and honey. She smelled of jasmine, and lavender. His senses flared with the taste and scent of her.  
  
Her arms stole around his neck as he sipped from her mouth; gentle, slow kisses that intoxicated him with their tenderness, enflamed him with their passion. The trembling, girlish edge of her old infatuation had not blunted, and with maturity and experience it now held the power to cut into him deeply. When he parted her mouth, and flicked his tongue against her succulent bottom lip, she fused ardently with him, melting in his arms as if she belonged there.  
  
He felt a soft rush of breath against his cheek, and turned into Padma’s kiss. Where Parvati’s kisses were questing and eager, Padma was assertive, pulling him to her mouth with unabashed hunger. Her tongue was velvety and dominant as it slid against his. He slipped his arm around her tiny waist and pulled her closer to savour her fierceness. And all the while, Parvati placed warm, moist kisses over his chest, and down his abdomen. When her hand caressed his erection, he moaned helplessly into her sister’s mouth.  
  
With a great crash, the door flew open, and the three of them jumped apart, breathless and alert, wands at the ready. Severus leapt to his feet as a young couple half-ran, half stumbled into the room, giggling and groping one another. They froze at the sight before them. “Oh, I say, do forgive us!” the young man laughed nervously, his powdered wig askew. He turned to his lady friend, whom Severus recognised as the Phoenix from the ballroom. “We thought we were…”  
  
His voice died to a whisper as he found himself on the business end of Severus’ wand. “Leaving. You thought you were just leaving,” Severus growled, giving the interlopers his most thunderous glare.  
  
Still panting and flushed, he returned to his companions. Both witches were staring at him, wide-eyed, incredulous expressions mirrored on each face. Suddenly Parvati burst into a peal of laughter, which he did _not_ find unappealing in the least.  
  
“I’m surprised their hasty retreat didn’t leave scorch marks on the door!” she proclaimed, her eyes bright with amusement. With a sigh of delight, she breathed, “Oh, Severus, you are truly formidable.”  
  
“You have no idea,” he murmured, stroking her luxurious hair. There was a delicate blush on her cheeks, and her kiss-stung lips were wet. She moved in closer, but he captured her first, pulling her into his arms, drinking from that delicious, pillow-soft mouth.  
  
From his right, a soft voice whispered, “In all honesty, I think it’s time we relinquished this room, Severus.” Padma clasped his arm. “The Malfoys would be scandalised to know you nearly hexed one of their guests.”  
  
“Let them,” he rasped, too fresh from the fight to care. “I’ll hex Lucius, too.”  
  
He bent back to his task, but Parvati held him at arm’s length with a minute shake of her head. “Padma is right, you know. It would be rude to insult our hosts.”  
  
Severus felt the golden glow of the evening fade. _If I see that idiot in the wig and his bird again, I’ll incinerate them myself._  
  
As he prepared to spend the rest of the party in cock-blocked misery, Padma placed her hand on his bare chest, and nuzzled against his cheek. “And so, I think it would be wise,” she said, “to go where we will neither offend our hosts nor be interrupted again.”  
  
Severus looked from her back to Parvati; his foolish hope, along with his cock, dared to perk up again.  
  
“I agree, dear sister,” Parvarti replied sagely. She rested her head against Severus’ shoulder. Her fingers glided over his chest, and brushed against his nipple. In a credible imitation of his drawl, she added, “And I happen to know the perfect place, if you would care to join us, Severus.”  
  
He looked down at the two witches, enfolded in his arms, and pondered how they could even consider the possibility his answer would be no. “I would indeed,” he said, and was somehow comforted that he still sounded almost in charge. “I place myself in your capable hands, Misses Patil.”  
  
Parvati could, as her sister boasted, Apparate with the best of them. He barely noticed they were moving until they reached their destination.  
  
Severus looked around, both impressed and enthralled. Sights and scents enflamed his senses. Flickering lanterns made from coloured glass floated from the ceiling, casting gauzy shadows of red, purple and blue. The air was full of spices: jasmine, vanilla, lavender, and cinnamon. On the far end of the long, narrow room, a mountain of large, velvet cushions in jewel-bright colours were heaped into an inviting bed.  
  
There was a prevailing sensuality that struck him as singularly generous and uncontrived. They had created this space to please him, and to pleasure him. It was a heady thought. The sudden awareness that he was there, alone, with the two women, gave Severus pause. There was little doubt as to what would soon take place; would they expect him to choose one over the other?  
  
As he turned to his hosts, a question on his lips, they melted into one another’s arms, and kissed. It was a lover’s kiss; full of heady passion and knowledge. Padma’s hands caressed her twin’s face, stroking her ravaged skin with tender, teasing fingertips, while Parvati cupped her sister’s breasts, weighing the firm, ripe flesh, her thumbs ghosting over the nipples. Their tongues battled for supremacy, and the soft, mewling sound of their pleasure made Severus’ cock pulse with lust. He watched until his eyes burned; he no longer remembered how to blink. Standing there, awash in the romance and hedonism of this time and place, he marveled how he had ever thought they might want him to choose between them.  
  
They ended the kiss with slow, sensual languour, and Padma turned to him with a rich, welcoming smile. “And now,” she said, beckoning to him like a siren, “it is your turn.”  
  
Undressing them was like opening the most exquisitely wrapped gifts. He unwound the generous swathes of fabric slowly, watching their expressions change and soften as they grew more exposed and aroused. The cloth slithered to the floor, pooling at their feet, revealing their taut, golden bodies. Nipples like tiny cherries tipped firm rounded flesh. Long legs, dainty feet tattooed with henna in intricate, lacey patterns, red-painted toenails; each part unveiled to be exclaimed over, to be worshipped and enjoyed.  
  
The scar did indeed run down Parvati’s body, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake, but it did not matter to him. Their eyes met, and she boldly offered him entrance to her mind; Severus could not resist the invitation when it was so generous issued. He saw a hundred fantasies, some frivolous and trivial, others inventive and intensely thrilling. In her mind, he was no paper cut-out hero, manufactured by the _Prophet_ to sell an ideal or a symbol. He saw himself, as he was─Severus Snape. Her whispered, “You and I were injured, not damaged,” echoed in his mind and his heart, and in those words he saw more than sex, more than this slow, well-planned seduction. He saw kinship, he saw understanding and acceptance of who and what he was, not some made-up character other women thought him to be.  
  
And more importantly, they both saw him the same way.  
  
Gratefully, he kissed Parvati’s warm brow, then cupped her breasts in his hands, reveling in their softness. She sighed rapturously as Padma approached her from behind, pulling her long hair aside, placing slow kisses over her long, slender neck. Like a moth to flame, Severus devoured Parvati’s irresistible mouth, unable to sate himself with her sweet kisses. His fingers found her tight nipples, and plucked at them impatiently. Parvati moaned, and grasped the lapels of his robes, wanting him with the same hunger as he wanted her, until they were grinding against one another.  
  
Soon, his own fine robes joined their clothing on the floor, pulled from his body by their eager fingers. Over her sister’s shoulder, Padma breathed, “Look at the two of you. Severus, you are so pale and lovely. And you, dear sister, so golden, so perfect…”  
  
Then together the witches were pushing him back, back toward the sea of velvet, until the three of them tumbled together into the bed of pillows. There was a tangle of arms and legs and laughter, as he lolled on the cushions, his arms full of these beautiful women.  
  
“I’m beginning to think I fell asleep at that incredibly dull party, and this is some incredible, erotic dream,” Severus murmured. The scent of cloves and cinnamon filled his nostrils. “Either that, or you’ve slipped the most bewitching love potion in my Gin and Tonic.”  
  
He froze, mortified that he had said something so incredibly fifth-year Hufflepuff aloud. He tried to hide his embarrassment by burying his nose in Padma’s thick, black hair.  
  
Parvati stroked his cheek. “Or perhaps you are a very astute wizard who knows how to appreciate a good thing.”  
  
“There is that, absolutely,” he replied fervently.  
  
Padma did not reply, but kissed his chest, and moved slowly down the length of his body, trailing her silky kisses over his chest, his belly. He felt his aching cock bobbing foolishly against her shoulder, willing her to go just that little bit further.  
  
He glanced at Parvati, who was watching her sister’s progress. Emboldened, Severus pulled her closer. “Come here, my beauty,” he urged, pulling her onto her knees. “I’m dying to taste you.”  
  
“Oh, Severus,” she moaned, giving in to him completely. “I have wanted this for so long.”  
  
Eagerly she straddled his shoulders, until her knees rested on either side of his head. Severus ran his hands over her smooth and shapely legs, sliding around to the globes of her bottom. He gave her a gentle pat, and she gasped, her breath stuttering from her lips. Nuzzling the tight, coarse curls at the apex of her thighs, he breathed in the mouth-watering scent of her arousal. Her slit glistened with her moisture, and as he gently parted her labia, he was awarded the gorgeous sight of her wet, rosy sex, flushed and inviting. The last of his higher thought processes dissolved in a haze of carnal lust, and he moaned as her sweet juices danced over his tongue. Her clitoris was swollen and hard, and he suckled it as she wailed her pleasure into the room. Her entire body trembled, and when he glanced up at her, she met his gaze with eyes that were huge and dark with desire.  
  
She leaned back into Padma’s arms. Her hips rolled sinuously against his insistent mouth as Padma sank down on his cock, her petals melting over him like spun sugar.  
  
Mindless to anything but his pleasure, Severus lay back as Padma rode him. He hungrily licked and suckled Parvati’s delectable pussy as his fingers eased into her slick, hot channel. Her movements grew more frantic as she sought her release, and Padma cradled her in her arms, rolling Parvati’s nipples between her fingers as she fucked Severus with deep, rolling movements.  
  
Severus felt his balls tighten, his cock swelling, Padma’s sheath growing tighter. His fingers, slick with Parvati’s juices, slipped into her back passage, until he was subsumed with her; clit, anus, cunt, mind. He fucked her with his fingers and mouth, using every skill he had ever learned and some he made up on the spot. His face grew wet as she bathed him in her pleasure.  
  
Suddenly Parvati froze, and Severus pumped his fingers faster, harder, until her orgasm burst around them. She screamed his name over and over, like a chant, her face incandescent with ecstasy. Almost at once, Padma’s own climax took her, and together they became a writhing, pumping animal borne of desire and hope and adulation.  
  
Severus rushed toward his release with the helpless knowledge that nothing would stop it, and then he was gone, pleasure racing over him like nothing he had ever experienced before, until he was blind, deaf and dumb to anything but the weight of the two witches as they fell against him and he could not breathe and he did not care.  
  
~o0o~  
  
Severus drifted awake in the dim, misty light, and groggily wondered what time it was, or perhaps even what _day_ it was. There were no windows in the room, and his wand lay forgotten among his discarded robes. With effort, he raised his head and lazily looked around. He was still cradled in Padma and Parvati’s cushioned bed, like some decadent Raja lording among his silks and velvets. There was a pleasant ache in his balls, not to mention his pucker, and he allowed himself a smirk of pure smug.  
  
He had been balls deep inside Parvati’s delicious cunt, thrusting his way toward heaven when he felt Padma’s dexterous hands part his arsecheeks. A whispered lubrication spell made him look over his shoulder, to see Padma wearing nothing but a tantilising grin and a black strap-on phallus. He never broke his stride; whatever the witch had in mind, she would most likely be suspiciously good at it.  
  
Moments later he was in the throes of the longest, most incredible orgasm of his life, and Parvati was coming so hard his cock felt like it was in the grip of a velvet-lined vise. Later, pillowed against her creamy, firm breasts, he sleepily requested that, when his time came to finally peg it, they would perform that last little service for him. He could think of no better way to go. They made a solemn promise, then proceeded to show him several enjoyable albeit tricky positions from the magical Kama Sutra. Now, he was parched and exhausted, and every muscle protested and gloated the hours of vigorous and inventive sex. He had the most sophomoric desire to Floo Lucius and tell him exactly what he had done, just to make the blond bastard turn green with envy. Lovely she may be, but Narcissa would never have the courage nor the flexibility to do to Lucius what the Patil girls had done to him over the past twenty-four hours.  
  
Padma lay with her back to him, her silky smooth backside pressed against his right hip. Severus gave it a fond little pat; after a quick shower and an extra-strength pain potion, he had big plans for that arse. Parvati was curled against his chest like a kitten, her irresistible breasts rising and falling slowly, a tiny frown etched between her delicate brows. She was warm and fragrant, and though he was loathe to move her, his screaming bladder gave him no choice.  
  
He nudged her gently, and she opened her lovely eyes and stretched. Sleepily, she whispered, “Second door on your right.” She nestled back against the cushions, a little more awake. “Are you coming back?”  
  
With a nod, Severus pressed his lips to her forehead, and she giggled as he clumsily managed to haul himself from the bed of pillows with all the natural grace of an upturned turtle. His back gave a low creak as he staggered off in search of the loo. He found it just in the nick of time; the relief of emptying his bladder left him weak in the knees. After urinating for what seemed like thirty minutes, he washed his hands, then grabbed a flannel to give himself a perfunctory clean. He caught the delicate aroma of his witches’ scent on his hands and his body, and tossed the flannel aside with a smile.  
  
A long mirror stretched almost the entire length of the wall, and in it he saw himself, a thin, pale man with mussed, oily hair and a hideous nose. The greyish stubble on his cheeks made him look tired and old. The scar tissue stood out against his pale skin; it would ever be an unlovely thing. It was then he noticed a strange mark on his collarbone. He leaned in to see it clearly, and the man in the mirror gave him a wide, crooked grin.  
  
It was a perfectly formed, lipsticked kiss. Severus could not tell if it were Parvati’s or Padma’s, but in the end he realised it didn’t matter. It meant something special regardless. He decided to leave it there; it looked like a decoration.  
  
Compared to their opulent bedroom, the bathroom was reassuringly normal, purely functional. He could easily picture the two girls standing before the long mirror, applying their hair and makeup charms, gossiping, smiling at one another, turning, melting into one another’s arms, caressing smooth skin, touching lip to lip…  
  
He hurriedly returned to the bedroom to find them in one another’s arms, drugging him with the sight of their slow, sensual kisses. Before he could speak, they parted, and reached for him, pulling him back down onto the cushions. “You were gone so long we were starting to worry,” Parvati teased, running her fingers through his impossible hair.  
  
“I told you I would return,” he said, flicking his tongue over her cherry red nipple. She moaned softly, and he settled against her, closing his mouth around the luscious tit, sucking and nipping to his heart’s content. He found Padma nested against his opposite side, and slipped his fingers into her wet quim. He turned to look at her, and his heart leapt at the playful glint in her eyes. “You wicked girl,” he growled, licking his fingers. “Have you two been playing with one another while I was gone?”  
  
“Of course,” Padma purred, stroking his cock possessively. “We were hoping it would entice you to join us.”  
  
Parvati rose from his arms, and placed a long, loving kiss on the head of his cock. She laughed as his hips jerked involuntarily, then took his entire cock into her mouth. “Oh Merlin,” he breathed, as she sucked him with long, deep strokes. “Keep this up and you’ll never be rid of me.”  
  
A Muggle film star once declared that nothing made a woman more beautiful than the belief that she is beautiful. Severus lay back, enveloped in the warmth and affection of his lovers, and believed.


End file.
